


Do the Panic

by archaicacid



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 03:52:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3275681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archaicacid/pseuds/archaicacid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean watches Eren die the summer before university.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do the Panic

Eren’s hoodies hide the wound on the back of his neck. It’s 6 centimeters long, Jean’s measured, and it cuts deep into the muscle. Not that it makes much difference. Jean’s stitched it up more times that he can count because Eren is never careful and he never will be and he doesn’t fully understand that marks on his skin are permanent.

Eren is mostly confused about being undead, he just never questions it.

…

Jean had watched him die the summer before university and he nearly doesn’t go.

His mother insists.

It’s during Jean’s first winter break that Eren finds him at the small park by where he used to live, only it isn’t really a park so much as a patch of grass with a bench and a small metal fence. It’s quiet at three in the morning, where they could meet in the cold and smoke cigarettes and kiss until their lips were chapped.

Jean isn’t smoking when he finds him, he’s staring at his hands with a cigarette tucked behind his left ear. He sees Jean sniff the air and tilt his head before looking up and Eren wonders if he smells the soft citrus scent he can’t seem to shake.

Had he always smelled like that?

…

Eren sits mostly quiet in the chair at Jean’s desk.  
  
Jean’s hands are gentle as he stitches, long fingers that can almost cover Eren’s neck. Eren knows the touch should feel more of  _something,_  that it’s dulled down since his heart stopped, but he still wants to lean into it.

"Told you to stay still."

Eren hums quietly and smiles, his canines showing. “It won’t hurt if you miss with your needle.”

"Not the point, idiot."

Eren is fairly sure Jean is rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t press. He leans forward and tries to keep his neck stiff, but it’s an odd feeling—the warm air pets as his open neck like a lover’s touch.  
  
Jean doesn’t shy away from his wounds but Eren’s sure he’d never agree to the thoughts that pass through his mind at that moment.

He laughs to himself and twists his neck to crack it once Jean finishes, yelping quietly when Jean tugs on his hair and pulls him backwards for a kiss.

"Wasn’t expecting that."

Eren’s lips are dry, but Jean swipes his tongue across them as he kisses, sucks on Eren’s bottom lip until it’s plump and shines. Eren’s tongue is next, slightly grey but still entirely too skilled. Jean catches it lightly between his teeth when Eren pokes it out between his lips to tease him and Jean wraps his lips around it, sucking lightly.

It makes Eren laugh and push Jean away, but he quickly sticks his tongue out again. He makes a face that Jean can’t entirely figure out from looking at Eren upside down.

Eren pulls Jean down by the collar of his sweater when Jean makes no effort to move, pressing his now slick tongue to Jean’s thin lips. Kissing is more complicated like this — Eren has nothing but small pockets of congealed blood in his body. He doesn’t sweat, doesn’t breathe, and he’s never quiet as warm as he used to be. 

But they manage.

"Can we keep making out on the couch? I’ll fuck up all the nice stitches I just did if we keep doing it here."

Eren pulls him in for a quick peck against his lips before sitting up and tugging at the bottom of his sweatshirt. When he pulls it off, Jean can’t help but stare at his left arm. It’s lighter than the rest of his body, with discoloration that isn’t as grayed as the rest, as though it’s fresher.   
  
(The lighter skin ends a few centimeters before his wrist. Jean never asks about, just stitches it up when he’s asked to. He’s mostly thankful that it’s still Eren’s hand that touches him and not someone he’s never known.

He’s not entirely sure why that, of all things, is something that would bother him.)

Jean leads him to the couch and Eren straddles him, cold thighs pressed against him. The temperature difference makes his stomach muscles twitch under his sweater and Eren pokes at him.

"Take this off, I wanna touch."

Before Jean can reach down, Eren paws at his sweater, his cold fingers touching Jean’s stomach. Jean almost wants to push him away, but the touch is nice aside from the prickling cold.

Eren runs his hands up Jean’s chest when the sweater finally comes off, tugging on his nipples. It’s where the temperature difference feels entirely too good and Eren is all too aware of what it does to him.

He leans down near Jean’s ear to whisper, and although Jean expects hot breath, there’s nothing. Just a quiet voice.

"Let me jerk you off, then I’ll let you study."

The offer’s too tempting to turn down. Jean pets at the back of Eren’s head, barely touching the new stitches. He rocks his hips against Eren and Eren grinds back.

"Fuck. Please."

Eren smirks and Jean can see his gums, nowhere as pink as his own. He doesn’t let it bother him.

Jean lifts his hips as Eren undoes his zippers and tugs his jeans down to his thighs. He’s not fully hard when Eren grabs at his cock, but Eren’s hand fits nicely around him and it won’t take long—his fingers are a little rough and the palm of his hand warms up as he strokes Jean.

The precum smears across Eren’s hand, but it still isn’t enough. He stops, and before Jean can can ask, there’s Eren’s hand near his mouth.

He leans forwards and parts his lips, letting his breath settle against Eren’s skin before licking across his palm to the tip of his index finger. He does it again and again until Eren’s fingers are curling against him; touching the center of Eren’s palm always made him a little weak.

Eren tugs his now slick hand back down around Jean’s cock and the strokes come a little easier and Jean breaths a little heavier.

Jean’s hands struggle to grab the front of Eren’s shirt and Eren knows he wants to tug him down for a kiss, but he laughs as he watches him. Jean’s eyes are heavy and he’s starting to whine—Eren loves this part.

He lets Jean struggle for a moment longer before leaning down. He swallows Jean’s moans; the sounds vibrate into his throat and make him buzz with _something_  and Eren feels like he’s drunk.

He sucks on Jean’s tongue and kisses him until Jean has to pull away to breath. 

Jean hits him lightly as he throws his head back. ”You, f-fuck, just because you don’t need to breathe, asshole.”

Eren buries his face in Jean’s neck and laughs. “Yeah, but I’m great at blowjobs.”

He can hear Jean swallow hard at that, so he picks up the pace with his hands, and grips Jean’s cock a little harder.

"Close?"

Jean’s  _yes_ is barely audible.

Eren scrapes his teeth across Jean’s neck, biting sensitive spots. He only pulls back when there’s a hitch in the pattern of Jean’s moans, a rising inconsistency. Jean’s mouth is open and his eyes are closed and Eren watches him intensely. 

He wants to see Jean come apart in orgasm; he’ll smile and sigh, with his eyelids fluttering.

Eren keeps the pace even and quick and he feels Jean’s stomach go taught under him.

” _Fuck, fuck._ Eren _, fuck._ ”  
  
He doesn’t let up until Jean pushes his hand away, too sensitive to handle anything more.

When Eren makes to get up from the couch Jean stops him, words still breathy and short.

"Hey, stay here, studying can wait a little longer."

Eren stretches out his legs and tries to fit on the edge of the couch, half on top of Jean. It’s slightly uncomfortable, Jean has a boney arm wrapped around him, but he’s warm and Eren doesn’t mind.

..

Eren watches Jean wake up almost thirty minutes later, come cold and dry on his stomach. He makes a face and Eren kisses it off of him.

"Watch me the whole time, weirdo?"

Eren shrugs as best he can laying down. He doesn’t need to sleep, not anymore—his body is self-sustaining, he’s dead, nothing is really needed.

Jean pets the stitches on the back of Eren’s neck as his fingers start to tingle from being asleep. It’s an odd sensation.

"I need to shower, I’m gross."

Eren whines, but moves, letting Jean stand. 

They’d tried showering together before, but Eren’s open cuts hadn’t dried properly and cleaning them out wasn’t something Jean enjoyed doing when they started to rot.

Jean doesn’t want to think about how long this will last. There’s always the question of  _when—_ formaldehyde and preservatives can only do so much. He pushes it out of his mind when he leans down to kiss Eren quickly and sees him smile.

Jean’s already mourned him once.

He can’t do it again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm archaicacid over on tumblr as well! Most of my unfinished snippets go there if you'd ever like to check them out. Thank you for reading!


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